


Persistence

by petite-neko (petiteneko)



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petiteneko/pseuds/petite-neko
Summary: Ghirahim knew the saying: curiosity killed the cat, but he was no cat, even if his prey was a bird.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY LOOK I WROTE PORN!

The first time I saw him, I was curious. A mere human child wandering the land his people had forsaken.

He had come prepared. Well, as prepared as he _could_ be considering his lack of knowledge. A sword, a shield, a somewhat basic understanding of swordsmanship. And a knowledge of where he was going.

As I followed him, I, too, began to realise just _what_ his goal was:

The Spirit Maiden.

From there, I began to put together the pieces. He must have been a friend of hers, or a warrior from the sky to come and retrieve that which I had stolen from them.

That was when curiosity had morphed into irritability.

And so, I had a lesson to teach this _boy_.

.+++.

A lesson he _obviously_ did not learn.

I had let him live. I had offered him _mercy!_ The tormenting lesson I had so _graciously_ provided him with had gone up and above that head of his.

That head which was always in the clouds…. Perhaps it was those clouds that blocking my lessons from getting through to him...

Because he was persistent. A persistent little insect that would not cease and desist. Trying his utmost to get in my way. To put a halt to all of my careful planning.

There was a reason I called him gadfly.

Perhaps I should take some advice from him, and indulge in persistence, seeing as he had _refused_ to listen to my sound advice. It was always so _rewarding_ to use your enemies weapons against them after all.

.+++.

Often, I wondered why. Why was this boy so apt to regain his friend? Why was he putting so much effort into it? Why was he so determined to go through trial after trial?

What was his motivating force? What was his true goal? Just _how_ could one be so selfless? To go through _so much_ for _so little?_

Sometimes, I would voice my curiosities to him -- mostly for an outlet of my vexing frustrations -- but I never expected a response from him.

A rhetorical question, if you will.

But he was more than welcome to answer it, if he so desired.

He never did.

.+++.

Perhaps that was why, why I was where I was. Sitting there, watching as he wandered from room to room. Watching as his brow furrowed in frustration and determination. Watching as he struggled past each and every trial in the room. To solve the puzzles, and defeat the foes.

What did I hope to gain from this venture, I wondered. Would I see some spark in his eyes? Would I be able to understand why he stood up, time after time by watching the way he moved?

Would I be able to understand him, by merely observing him without my presence influencing his actions?

(I know, oh I knew that he vexed me as much as I, him. I could see it. See how his frustrations towards me clouds his vision. How it muddles that determination in his eyes into _something else._ )

And yet, no such answer came to me. As I turned to leave, however, I heard him speak.

At first, I will admit it had startled me, wondering if that accursed sword of his had informed her _master_ of my presence, however it soon appeared to not be the case.

No, what he had spoken was towards that sword. Idle drivel, really. Nonsensical stuff that was probably only intended to pass the time.

There was a few mentions of food, of sleeping, of potions and equipment.

There was a mention of what sounded similar to a specific species of bird, even if pronounced oddly.

But then, then there was the mention of that spirit maiden. Of her _mortal name._

Of course, I knew that his sword would not allow Link to mention anything that would reveal her whereabouts, even if she had not informed him of my presence yet (which, seemed unlikely) but that was not the reason I lingered.

No.

It was the fact that her name fell off his lips in such a _fond_ manner.

Was this it? Was _this_ my answer to all of my curiosities? Of an _inclination_ towards her?

(And yet, despite the fact that I could use such a fact to my advantage, somehow the revelation - the _thought_ \- just did not sit _well_ with me.)

I turned back around, wanting to find out more.

.+++.

Unfortunately, the Sky Child had not revealed any more pertaining that certain subject. Nothing he said or did hinted at anything else. It did not inform me if the feelings, if they were truly genuine, were returned or not. I could not discover if he had even admitted them. No confirmations or denials of my suspicions.

His conversations, too, had steadily declined as the puzzles became harder. As he decided to focus on the task at hand instead of talking.

And while I did not blame him, it didn’t mean I wasn’t displeased about it.

I could have left. I could have simply allowed this boy to continue along with merry way.

Instead, I decided that he could deal with one of my more powerful minions. A punishment, I suppose you could say.

I had wasted enough time on him as it was.

.+++.

I had not expected to happen upon his presence in the midst of the night.

I was under the presumption that he had escaped to his home above the clouds once the sun had set.

Of course, it hadn’t come to too much surprise that he had bested the obstacle I had put in his path. It merely was meant as a lesson is all - albeit one he knew not why.

And while the opportunity of ridding myself of this insect _did_ pass my mind, I knew better than that.

I would not enjoy his death to its fullest that way. No. I wanted to see that… that _fury_ he held only for me to fill his eyes. I wanted to see that determination fade. I wanted… I wanted…

I shook my head before my imagination got the better of me.

Really, I should just continue on with my mission. I had lost precious time on his behalf already today. I needn’t spend more.

But, then I wondered: if those eyes looked different when I was not around, just how would his form look when he was blissfully unaware of _everything?_ Perhaps the child mumbled in his sleep?

A few minutes couldn’t hurt… could it?

.+++.

I must say I had _definitely_ not expected the sight that graced my eyes. This Sky Child was _full_ of surprises today, wasn’t he?

However, once again, I do _suppose_ it was not much of a surprise. In fact, I could only recall back to when he had uttered the spirit maiden’s name earlier on in the day.

At the very least, I could say that _yes_ Hylia’s chosen warrior was _most definitely_ blissfully unaware of his surroundings at this current moment.

(Not that I was making is easy for him, as I wished it remain as such.)

The sounds gracing my ears were… familiar. Different, but familiar.

Normally, his gasps wouldn’t be so… _energetic._

It would have been the polite thing to leave, honestly. And, really, I was not watching for any stimulation either. I should leave.

But I kept hearing _her_ name, in _his_ voice in my mind, and I wondered:

Would I hear it again?

Certainly… this could most definitely provide me with that much-desired answer. He _was_ quite audible after all.

I suppose that was a given, considering how _loud_ he was during our battle after all...

Although, I do suppose that this may simply be a stress-reliever as well.

(Part of me wondered, just _why_ I hoped it was. I was here for an answer, and if he had not called out _her_ name, well I would not have it, now would I?)

As I watched him idly, I could only draw even more comparisons to our battle. From the sweat beading his features, or the furrowing of his brows. The way his lips were parted as he panted.

And, I _do_ suppose you could state that he also has a _sword_ in his hand, even if more… fleshy in nature. Tightly gripping it too.

There was also the way that he cried out my name in frustration.

...Wait a minute.

What?

I blinked and stared at him. Certainly I did not hear that right…

I do suppose I sometimes lose myself in my own… well I would not exactly call them _fantasies._ Recollections or envisions perhaps.

Unlike what our dear Sky Child was currently lost in.

I sighed softly and shook my head. Perhaps I should be _paying attention_ to him, and not making comparisons to our battle to his current state of, well… rapture.

No matter _how_ amusing it may be.

I heard him gasp again, and stutter.

A grunt, perhaps? Or maybe, he was approaching his climax? The way he was gritting his teeth and tensing… The groaning…

Certainly, if he yet to had mention the Spirit Maiden’s name, I do suppose the climax would definitely be it. So I waited. Waited and listened.

And my patience was rewarded when a name slipped past his teeth.

...I _wasn’t_ imagining things.

It was my name. _My_ name that slipped past his lips. And while there was a moment of confusion, I pushed it aside as I let _my_ lips curl into a smirk.

Interesting. Ever interesting Sky Child…

It wasn’t a proximity of ecstasy that made him grit his teeth, or make those sounds it seemed. No, it was _my name_ that he gritted out. My name, and perhaps even a bit of denial? The fact that he tried, tried so hard not to utter it.

Well, we _couldn’t_ have that, now could we?

Using a bit of my magic, I slipped myself behind him, breathing lightly on his neck. Slowly, subtly…

I could not have him realise that I was _actually_ here after all.

He shuddered.

I inhaled his scent - heavy with musk and sweat and pheromones. Testing my boundaries, I slid my tongue out and across his slick jaw. I was rewarded with another one of his sounds and _oh_ how delicious it sounded up close…

I cast a cautious gaze up at him, but the Sky Child seemed still ever so blissfully unaware of my presence. 

I let my gaze wander and he had his member tightly gripped in his hand. He was panting deeply, and I wondered why.

Did he want to prolong his pleasure? Was he denying himself? What?

Or was he fantasizing that it was _I_ who was denying him?

My lips curled and I chuckled.

Very well. Let him play out that fantasy of his. I would even provide him with a reason! How _generous_ of me!

“Say it.” My words were a mere whisper - but deep. Dark. A warning. A command. “Say my name again.”

Oh. There it was again. The way he grit his teeth. The way he denied himself… and he shook his head.

I slid an arm around him, letting my hand join his, and my thumb played with his tip, fingers slipping under his.

It seemed I had to be _persistent_ in my efforts to get him to listen to me.

“Say it.” A low growl, that was what my voice was. “No, _sing_ it. Sing my name, my dear Sky Child.”

He sang alright, but just his voice, not my name.

I tightened my grip - not enough to have him gain a semblance of his lucidity however - but also moved my thumb more.

“You can do better. Come now Sky Child. Sing.”

I twisted my hand slightly before - _there!_ There it was.

Oh, hearing him moan out my name in pleasure was _something else_ indeed!

I relented my grip slightly. I suppose I should reward such _good_ behaviour… and so I moved. Moved my hands, and his only followed along.

He leaned his back against my chest as he sung out my name again. His eyes were still closed however.

I wondered if he knew I was here, and was pretending otherwise…

His hips bucked up, his eagerness only showing, but I kept my hand at a steady pace. It wasn't every day that I had the Goddess’ Chosen Warrior under my fingertips after all. I wanted to enjoy this. Savour this.

Make him irrevocably mine.

Of course, all without him knowing I knew.

Which was why, no matter how tempting it was to let my lips, tongue and teeth wander and mar his neck, I did not. I could not provide sensations that he would not be able to produce or mimic on his own. I could not leave a trace as to my presence here. I did not attempt to display my dominance in more than hushed whispers and a cautious grip.

But I watched. I watched and listened and felt and I _drank._ Drank in the sight of his skin. Of his lips parted in cries. Of those eyes clenched in rapture and fantasy. Of the way his back arched against me. Drank in the various sounds he made from the loud outbursts of my name to the soft whispers of denial. from the subtle gasps of something unexpectedly pleasant to the groans of relief. Drank in the way his body hitched against mine. The feel of his pulse throbbing against my hand… or the supple press of his ass against my growing desire…

I am certain he felt _that_ too.

“Sing. Sing for me, my fallen bird from the sky.”

And sang he did.

Sang out my name so loudly I could hear its echo. Sang with so much effort, I could feel as he slumped into unconsciousness in my arms.

As I stared down at him, I could only smirk.

I may have not gained an answer tonight, but I most certainly have gained an… _advantage._

The boy needed to have an accurate fantasy now, shouldn't he? _Especially_ when he had no hope in replicating it…

Now, perhaps I should return to my _own_ thoughts. I had a rather… captivating one earlier, and something to deal with after all.

“Until next time, my little birdie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only blame those I know on tumblr. (Namely a-perplexing-puzzle) But my best friend takes credit for half of this.
> 
> I asked somebody for a plot idea for this. And, well. My best friend tossed me a text message half way through my reply, cutting it short. And well... "Ghirahim watching Link run through dungeons" became "Ghirahim watching Link rub"
> 
> (Granted. We both laughed at the typo of sorts. Although... while writing this, a brilliant idea came to me, which fitted the theme _quite_ nicely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I had intended on Persistence being a one-shot. But then. Then I realised my internalised picture of the storyline was off. And, well. I could not resist adding in the next two chapters. (Yes, there will be at least one more.)
> 
> Enjoy the porn. And Link's suffering.

For sleeping on the surface, Link slept **awfully well.** Although, after a quick once-over, he easily found out just **why.** And, he groaned, because he realised that he **most definitely** needed to clean himself up.

First things first - he pulled out a cloth and water from his pack and wiped himself down, somewhat bewildered at the fact that he had just **passed right out.** Always, no matter what, he had enough time to wipe himself down afterwards. (He learned that the hard way, one night when he was too lazy to do it.) And yet…

Perhaps was it the fact that he had been so exhausted and worn out after fighting Koloktos?

He sighed before re-adjusting his pants and getting himself ready. He then walked across and picked up his sword.

Thankfully, Fi was quiet.

(Of course, he had asked her to refrain from observing whenever he was…)

First things first, he had to take a bath…

.xxx.

Cupping water over his head, Link found himself pondering over last night. His… imagination had been rather vivid: he remembered… He remembered feeling the ghost of a tongue, and breath against his skin. And the feeling of **something firm** pressing into his backside…

Link shuddered before deciding to step into the water.

Yeah, the shocking cold solved **that** budding problem. Maybe **now** was not the best time to ponder on last night…

.xxx.

After restocking up, as he had discussed with Fi earlier, and then acquiring the next song and area, Fi had advised that he spend the rest of the day in the sky. She mentioned that they only had a few more hours of daylight left, and that Lanayru was particularly harsh at night.

While Link did not like or want to wait - he heeded Fi’s advice. It was typically correct, and he wasn’t exactly keen on spending another night on the surface, and especially so if it was harsher than usual.

He listened to her when it came to not doing things. Well... **most** of the time anyway.

.xxx.

Taking a dip on the surface would never compare to the hot basin at home. There just was something **so** relaxing of being surrounded by hot water and having soap slide down his body and--

…Shit.

Link shivered despite the warmth - **what** was with him? And why? Why was he feeling **that breath** on his skin? Or those hot words whispered against his ear? He hated this demon - hated what he **did** to him!

(He could still hear those words his mind had created: Say it. Say my name.)

Why? What was it?!

...Nevermind **that** right now, he had a problem to deal with.

There was that strong grip -- although that wasn’t too hard to fathom. Ghirahim had often ripped his sword from his grasp so easily after all…

(A grasp that felt too incomplete at first - but with the accompaniment of laughter and commands, it all too soon became lost in another fantasy. Rougher - darker…)

He imagined now - that deep laughter, that tight grip.

“Ghi-”

He bit his lip. He **shouldn’t** be doing this.

(The denial. The refusal. Say it, he had commanded. Of **course** Ghirahim would say that. What was it that he said when they first met? _But I prefer my full title…_ )

His own hand tightened as the voice became firmer.

(Like that firm pressure growing at his backside. Oh… yes… that was so tempting… more.. He wanted to feel **more** of what the pressure was. Of what it represented… just knowing that he, **too** , had a similar effect on Ghirahim as well…)

“Ghirahim!”

(Sing for him. That’s what he wanted. Sing like the trapped bird he was…)

He felt his climax approaching - his mind going white as he concentrated on the pleasure and---

...Quite frankly, it was a let down.

A pale contrast to the night before…

**Damn it all!**

.xxx.

Heat. More of this damned heat. And sand. **Everywhere!** Thankfully, they spent the majority of the time in the past. With the smell of salt in the air and water - **so** much water.

(It only made him wonder: was this what Zelda saw when she travelled back in time? Saw as this vast desert she once knew had transformed into the sea?)

They were taking a break in a little alvoe from the heat. In either time, the land was hot -- although Link still couldn’t decide what was better: hot and muggy, or hot and dry. They were both unpleasant, although he supposed having buzzing life of the sea around him was definitely preferable over the silent death of the desert.

Hopefully, he could find the flame soon...

.xxx.

It was laughter or sounds of intrigue or annoyance that he was expecting to penetrate his ears when he opened the locked door, **not** strange fleshy things to penetrate the boat.

He cringed at his word choice.

Fi soon informed him that those things were called tentacles. That they were part of a much larger beast, that they were its appendages of sort. Numerous arms and legs.

And yet, when his sword informed him that there was an evil presence behind the door, Link couldn’t help but feel a spark of anticipation.

Which was very quickly shut down by her calculating that it was more than likely the main body of the beast that was attacking the ship.

That it was **not** Ghirahim.

This… this was the first time he hadn't encountered the so called demon lord after toiling through a dungeon of sorts. 

Somehow it felt empty.

Where was the haughty laughter, the mocking soliloquy? The taunting words and frustrated rantings?

It just didn't feel **right.**

He couldn't think too much on that thought however. No, for soon those strong, flexible, slithering appendages lashed at him.

The emptiness didn't fade however.

And it made him wonder: what **if** Ghirahim was here? What if he had sent this monster after him?

A thought made him shudder at that.

But he dismissed it. Ghirahim would not give up the chance of mocking him if he had it. That, at the very least, Link knew.

(But **where** was he then?)

Link gasped when one of those appendages wrapped around his leg and slammed him into the ground.

Damn it all, that hurt!

(That shuddering feeling came again.)

He grunted before preparing a Skyward Strike. He just needed to **defeat** this damned thing. He couldn’t afford to be… well…

(He couldn’t imagine that mocking laughter. He **couldn’t** think of that demon whispering in his ear as…)

He sent an angry slash towards the monster.

Shit. **Shit!** It grabbed his leg again, and he was dangling from it, upside down.

He flailed and struggled, trying to escape its grasp. Damn it! **Damn** it all! How was he supposed to strike at it **now?** Dangling and useless. Struggling and ---

Oh.

Oh. **Hylia….**

No. **No...** No way in hell. He dropped his sword, only to bring his hands up to cover his face as he groaned. He could feel a pressure threatening at his eyes but he denied it. Fuck.

**Why?!**

Honestly - Link was **relieved** when the monster threw him once more across the deck.

Fuck. Fucking **hell.** This was **embarrassing as fuck!** He needed to end this battle. **Now!**

Before his imagination got the **better** of him.

(Now, was he **ever** glad the demon lord wasn’t here. That sick bastard would most **definitely** mock him for **this.** Laugh at him, belittle him….)

...He just needed to stop thinking and start **doing** damn it!

First thing to do was grab his sword....

.xxx.

That was perhaps one of the most sloppiest battles he had fought yet. He acquired the flame. He powered up Fi. And then rushed towards dry land.

Fuck. Fucking **hell!**

The images just kept **playing** in his head. Of… of….

He couldn't get that chuckling out of his head. That pet name. The taunting challenges. Encouragement…

All while he was…

**Why?!**

Why was he imagining that monster doing those **things** to him as the demon lord watched? As he laughed and whispered into his ear. As that **tongue** slid and wandered his skin…

And **why** was his body reacting so.... **positively** towards it?

Of hearing as Ghirahim whispered illicit and lewd things into his ear. Of that promise of making him scream so loudly that…

Without realising it, Link had found that his hand had wandered south to release some of the tension that had been building since the encounter with that… monster. Thankfully he had… already…

This was so fucking embarrassing!

Here he was, in a sheltered off area, getting off at the thought of....

And if that demon lord was here…

(If even possible: he only got **harder** at that thought.)

He would mock him and oh... yes. The chuckles. The laughter...

Taunt him. Probably ask him to sing like the little bird he was… cry out his name. Scream. Scream like he promised he would make him….

(He knew he was being oh so very loud at the moment but he couldn't care anymore.)

He tried. Tried to mimic the grasp the other would have on him. Firmly. Almost painfully. Controlling. Tried to mimic a tempo. He would bring him to the brink, only to stop at the last minute. To deny him what he needed and laugh. Laugh and command him to sing his name again. Probably throw in some nonsense about his title…

And as he finally was allowed to finish… the other would laugh. Because if he wasn't mocking then he wasn't Ghirahim…

.xxx.

Quietly, he continued on his journey. He tried not to think about… about the **desert** because it brought up far too many emotions for him to handle.

There was shame. There was guilt. There was… well the obvious. But there were… **other** emotions he had a hard time naming.

From the fact that the demon lord had **not** been there. That he was off, looking for hints for Zelda’s whereabouts. Of how to get to her. And, it only made him wonder even more. Certainly, wouldn’t it be easiest to just… use the timeshift stones…?

Of course, Link wasn’t too sure just how portable they were…

So, why wasn’t he in the desert?

(Something told him, that that solution wouldn’t fix his mixed feelings on the matter…)

When would he see the demon lord again..?

.xxx.

He was in his bed again, so Link found it a bit… safer… to indulge in a few other thoughts. Just… well. In case.

He found himself thinking back to that night in Faron, and he wondered. Wondered once again at just… at the vividness of his imagination. At just how **exhausted** he had been that night. The next night in Skyloft was not even remotely similar. The time in the desert… on the surface was closer but it still paled in comparison. Was it… because the surface was... more **probable?**

Why? Why? What had put him to the point where he couldn't even keep his eyes open?

Not to mention just… **what** was with that nickname?

He groaned. He just didn't get it.

.xxx.

Heat. Heat. Heat.

Why were both of the places he had to venture to overwhelming with heat?

Alas but he had to toil through it. Muster up the strength and get to the next temple or dungeon or trial or whatever it was that he had to battle through. 

Part of him wondered just what it was that would be awaiting him after he would unlock the door…

But part of him - the more sensible part - also feared it.

.xxx.

Oh....

Oh **no.**

 **He** was here. Right here. In front of him. Chuckling. Greeting him.

This. **This** was what he had been anticipating back on that ship…

The taunts. The snide remarks. The mockery. The frustration. That **look** in his eyes...

Link subconsciously reached to his neck as that ghostly feeling returned. As heated breath caressed his neck. As dark, sultry words whispered past his ear. A wet, slick tongue gliding along his jaw.

And the **hand...**

Concentrate Link. Concentrate. There is an ill tempered demon lord before you.

He had to shake away the tendrils that were slithering from even that dissuading thought. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the other. Ill-tempered indeed. And a dramatic flair to boot. Lamenting over past events. Grumbling over losses. And then disappearing into diamonds.

He had to glance about to find him, as the demon teleported himself from place to place. Well, that is, until….

_“That darling little girl…”_

No. **No.**

And then, then his fingers dug into his shoulders, hair brushing against his cheek, and lips caressing his ear as he whispered….

_“But then, my dear Sky Child, then I found this place…”_

He froze. **What** did he just say? 

No. No, he **had** to be hearing things. That, or he was just over-thinking things.

At the very least, he was **dear...** What else could he be...

Concentrate. **Concentrate!**

He turned around and slashed at the other. He **couldn't** show weakness! Damn him. **Damn** him and his lack of respect for personal space! Link needed to get away from him. He couldn’t have the other hovering over his shoulder. Couldn’t have him **whispering** into his ear….

Thankfully, the demon lord jumped away.

Link found his shoulders tingling.

To be truthful, Link, really wasn’t paying too much attention to what Ghirahim was saying. Most of the time, actually, he didn’t. Although some words did tend to stand out. Threats, for example. Or mentions of Zelda (although, right now, he was ignoring that as well, as he didn’t quite like the unease it put in his stomach) or when the other praised himself.

His ears, though, were **quite** keen on picking up… well…

_“...outstanding matter of your punishment, Link.”_

Why? Oh Goddesses, **why?**

And he was **definitely** envisioning that his screaming, once more, was from a completely different sort of punishment…

And, then, Ghirahim’s reaction to his refusal… He was angry. Oh. Why? **Why** was everything so attractive about this damned demon? (And why? Why did he **want** Ghirahim to take it out on him? To shove him against the wall. To whisper into his ear and his hand grasping--)

**_Concentrate!!!!_ **

Oh. _Oh..._

**_Fuck._ **

What was he doing? Oh. Sweet Hylia....

He chose the **wrong** moment to concentrate. And now **concentrate** he did. At the way Ghirahim’s cloak disappeared in an array of diamonds, revealing that pale tempting skin. Concentrate on words and **moans** that he **wholeheartedly** agreed with: _Lovely, aren’t they? … Doesn’t their shape just leave you...breathless?_ Concentrating on those **long** , strong fingers as gloves turned into metal.

_Such beauty… Such an exquisite physique!.... Such stunning features!_

**Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.**

He wondered how it would feel against his **hot** , throbbing---

The way his tongue slide along his lips---

Those hooded eyes full of want---

Fuck this shit. Fucking hell.

He was **so** screwed.


	3. Chapter 3

The moment he had walked into the room, I could see it in his eyes.

Granted, the excitement there wasn't the only thing I could see there. No... there was dread, there was horror, there was denial.

But that excitement soon turned into something more… _carnal_ as I went on. I didn't miss the way he touched his neck, or the tremble in his form when I got a little too close for his comfort. And I most definitely did not miss the way his eyes glazed over during my little, well, _show._ (Granted, I probably would have done it regardless of my knowledge of his lust for me, but knowing that he _fully_ appreciated it made it that much more sweeter.) Or the way those eyes followed my tongue as it coated my lips.

The dread was still there, yes. But I could see the hunger threatening to overwhelm him. Of course, I would play the ignorant enemy… at least for a little while. It was far more delicious to let the little bird fall on his own accord after all. That that persistence **would** fail eventually. I just needed to make myself as tempting as possible - not that that was any sort of a difficult task.

He drew his blade and glared at me with a hatred I knew was hardly feigned. He was probably angry at me. Angry that I caused such a reaction in him. Faulted me even. Not that I blame him.

“Come, boy.”

Watching as he twitched in reaction to my carefully selected words was as amusing as it was tempting, but I resisted.

He charged at me, letting his fury blind him, and oh… _oh…_ but once more I refrained myself and caught the blade, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “As beautiful as it is seeing you in blind rage, I expected better of you, child.” And then, with a flick of my hand I backhanded him.

I loved that little glare of his. It was _almost_ cute.

I summoned a few daggers and sent them his way. And while he escaped most of them, one had scraped across his arm and he grunted in pain.

I summoned more. I _needed_ to hear his voice again.

I was rewarded with another soft cry but he had advanced too close for me to summon any more.

And he was glaring at me. With that fury and _something else_ in his eyes.

It was captivating. More. _More._ I wanted **_more_** of that expression created solely for me…

I felt as metal nicked against me.

...I had become distracted. I could not afford too many repeats of that. His sword… it was getting stronger. How? I knew not, but the power it held now was greater than before...

Gah!

“Petulant brat!”

This time I charged at him, slashing my sword, and I revelled in the cry he made when the metal bit into his flesh. He jumped away, and I could not help myself as I licked away the crimson fluid.

He watched me in a haze.

He wanted a show? Alright then. I let out a soft moan and licked my lips.

Ah, there was that shudder again.

“While I would say it is not polite to stare, I do suppose I cannot fault you.”

Ah, that got him riled up and he charged at me.

“Such a _compliment_ Sky Child. To know I arouse such uncontrollable _urges_ in you.”

His fighting had improved, granted, but I also knew it was emotional. Sloppy. If he had been fighting another opponent, perhaps it would have had more… finesse.

I grabbed his chin. Firmly. And lifted him up.

“But I _know_ you can do better, my dear Sky Child.” He flinched. “Do **not** insult me so.”

...Oh. **Oh.** Now _that_ is interesting….

My other hand grasped tightly at his sword hand, fingers pressing into the pressure points and prompting him to let go of his weapon. I kept my eyes narrowed. “I am giving you the **honour** of facing me in this form, but you do not give it your **all!** ”

My anger… it was _arousing_ him. 

He was squirming in my grasp, hands now weakly grasping at mine that was holding his chin.

“I **promised** to make you scream, but I did not think it would be so… _easy…_ ” With a smirk I pressed my lip against his ear. “Maybe, I should simply just _kill_ you for this offense instead…”

...Was that a _whimper_ of despair?

Oh, _what_ naughty things were coursing your mind Sky Child? To be _disappointed_ upon realising I was not about to go through with my promises punishment…

I was tempted to just let the whole incident off as a logical fear for one's life, even though that was a stretch considering just _who_ I was dealing with, but after seeing that _horror_ , that instantaneous regret, on his face, my resistance snapped.

My lips curled into a smirk and I teleported us so I could shove him against the wall. His grunt only a taste of what was to come.

“But I do suppose it isn't fair to deny the **both** of us, is it? I do believe I have told you just _how_ much I enjoy your sounds of torment after all.”

I felt him shudder in my grasp and his hands fell to his sides.

“I am a man of my word after all…”

My hand tightened on his jaw as I held him against the wall. “Yes, I **will** make you scream Sky Child. The sound will be _music_ to my ears, and I shall **relish** in it.” He was trembling now - when he **should** be struggling against me. I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear. “You’ve been very _naughty_ Sky Child: Hindering my efforts, refusing me, and now insulting me so? Yes… a punishment is in order…”

His jaw moved, his breath hitching before becoming laboured. This _definitely_ was having an effect on him. I glanced down to see him clutching his hand into a fist. Denying himself - that’s what he was doing. He wouldn’t last long, I knew this.

He had given in once before -- he would give in once more. **That** , I would ensure.

I moved my body closer to his trembling form, our knees brushing. “ _What_ shall I do first hmm?” I brought over the point of my blade, caressing his cheek. I could see it - that little resistance cracking and fading. “Shall I overwhelm your senses until you are writhing and screaming underneath me? Shall I tease and torment you, until you’re left begging and pleading me to finish you off? Or… shall I _penetrate_ you until your throat is left too raw to utter another sound?” I let the tip pierce his skin slightly to accentuate the double meaning of the words, and I was rewarded with a _beautiful_ cry. It was not next to my ear, as I had pulled back slightly to observe his reactions -- but soon enough for that. I leaned in once more, however, to whisper harshly into his ear. “ _Yes…_ ”

Alas, it was a whimper this time.

“Just like that, my _dear_ Sky Child…” I licked the shell of his ear. “Let me **taste** your torment…”

I could hear him panting into my ear, I could see his eyes tightly screwed shut out of the corner of mine. The way his brows furrowed in frustration and denial. 

Conflicted, the hero was oh so conflicted.

“Sky Child…” I growled into his ear, “ **what** did I say? **Do not** hold back with me!”

He whimpered again and I could feel his knees shaking against mine. I did not need to glance to know just _how_ much this was affecting him, if he was having trouble keeping his balance...

My free hand opened as I let the sword drop, vanishing into diamonds as I summoned a dagger in its place, my face backing away once more as I looked at his features. “But I _do_ suppose we should start small, hmm…? To best prepare you for what’s to come…”

At his dazed expression, I couldn’t help but laugh. I pressed the tip of the cold metal over his sensitive skin once more, dragging it down. I revelled in his shudders.

My other hand was still firmly holding his jaw however, so he could not look away from me. “Tell me…” I licked my lips once more, leaning in so close that our noses were touching, eyes locking. “Tell me Sky Child, _what_ does it feel like, hmm? What does it _feel_ like, being at the _mercy_ of your very enemy?”

The expression I was graced with, was _not_ what I was expecting. No. There was a grin. A smug expression as he stared me down. A defiance.

I wanted to smack it off of his face.

“I am _afraid_ I cannot answer your question _demon lord._ ” And, that sass! “I mean, isn’t that the very thing that you _lack?_ ”

I saw red, and the dagger I had had dug into his flesh - and he cried out, his body arcing against mine. Not in pleasure, no. Pain.

Yes. Yes, this was _music_ to my ears… the _sight_ was one to behold.

I watched his expression for a few more moments before I pulled out the metal, bringing it up to my lips. But I did not close my eyes. No, I watched as he watched me in dreadful fascination as my tongue slipped out to caress my blade.

I did not stop the moan that left my throat at the taste.

He was panting once more, chest heaving and his eyes slightly wincing, blood oozing out of the wound I made just beside his shoulder.

I did not stop myself here either - no, I leaned in, lips pressing to the skin, tongue gliding over the trail of crimson liquid.

I halted once I heard it:

_His_ moan.

This time, the arcing of his body towards me was not a jolting reaction from the pain -- no this was pleasure. Sheer, unadulterated _pleasure._ He wanted more -- or at the very least, his _body_ did.

I do suppose I could continue on with my little charade, but I cared little for it now. No, not after I heard his moan. And so, I pressed my lips to the parted skin, my tongue slipping into the wound and I **drank.**

And he? He sung out once more, his hands weakly grasping at my shoulders. Gasping - panting - moaning…. And soon, those sounds became more coherence - _words:_

“Ah-ah-Ghira-him… St-OP!”

I suppose I could indulge him so. I lifted my head, licking my upturned lips. “Hmmm?”

I know he could see the lust in my eyes, hear the lilt of my voice. I dazed him as he seemed to forget what he wanted to say.

“...Why did you stop?” He finally managed to say.

“ _...Something_ ” the dagger disappeared as its predecessor did and I brought that hand south, grasping him as he moaned loudly, “tells me you would like my attention _elsewhere…_ ”

A curse left him and the hands on my shoulders tightened. His eyes were screwed shut now, teeth clamping down on his lip.

Oh… oh **no** little bird… You **will** sing.

My hand moved as I caressed him. This time he would **know** that it was **I** who brought him to ecstasy and beyond. There would be **no** more charades.

“Already _so_ excited Sky Child?” I whispered, leaning in once more. “How long?” My hand slipped into his pants, grasping him fully now. “How long have you desired _me_ so?”

A few muffled noises left him, despite his efforts.

Ah, ah, ah. I know _just_ how to deal with that…

“ **Answer** me, Sky Child!” I hissed into his ear.

I heard the hitch in his chest -- but that was not enough. No. This time he would cry into my ear. Call out my name. He would **know** that this was no fantasy of his mind. I would make his perceived fantasy a reality. And so, just as he imagined, my fingers wrapped tightly around the base.

He gasped.

I growled, but drummed my other fingers impatiently along his length.

His fingers were digging into my arms now, his head trying to tilt up despite the hand still holding it.

“The… f-f-first - Ah!”

...Interesting in _deed_.

I relented in my grip and pumped him a few times. Soft sounds were leaving him now, his hips starting to move. I then took the tip of his ear between my teeth and bit down - not _too_ hard, but enough to get him to gasp loudly. There. There we go…. His lips were loose.

I followed down his jaw, my hand tilting his neck up for easier access. Here, I applied more force.

I owed him a few marks after the last time after all…

And then, when I _really_ bit down, was when I heard it - that cry. That beautiful song. I hummed against his skin, moving my hand a little faster now. And then, moving down further, I could hear as more cries left his throat.

It was intoxicating.

I moved back towards the wound I made earlier, marking that, too, letting my tongue play with the tender skin there. His whole frame shook violently.

Hmm….

I pulled away to watch him as his gaze was fixated on my tongue.

Almost, almost did I laugh.

Very well Sky Child, very well. I smirked at him. Confident that he would not attempt to slip away or fight back now, I finally let go of his jaw, only to to descend upon his lower regions.

The scent here was stronger.

I slid my tongue out to caress the tip, and I heard curses of disbelief leave him. His hands moved to resting on my hair.

...I would allow him this one concession.

He watched me in fascination. In lust. There was this pleading look in his eyes.

Not enough. 

I licked my lips, grinning still. “Now, **what** do we say for something we _want_ Sky Child?”

To my surprise, there was no hesitation.

“ _Please…_ ”

I chuckled. It was dark and low. I pressed the hand that was previously holding his jaw against his hip before I wrapped my lips around him.

To _think_ he was so aroused at my tongue! Naughty thoughts _indeed!_ I took him deeper into my mouth, sliding my tongue around him. I must make more of a habit of using my tongue next time we met, it seems.

His fingers were clutching at my hair now. As long as he didn't rip out any strands… I moved off for a moment to growl lowly in warning, glaring at him.

He only moaned louder, although seemed to lessen his grip slightly.

Ah, right. My anger was only arousing him further.

His hips were pressing against my hand. He was thoroughly enjoying this, wasn't he? Crying out like that, hands in my hair, struggling between a rock and a hard place to move…

It was absolutely beautiful.

How I craved to satisfy **all** of his fantasies right here and now… Of those scenes I painted into his mind with my lilting voice…

To take him against the wall. On the floor… watch as those damned eyes of his light up in pleasure, only to darken upon the realisation of just _who_ brought him that far…

But there was a Spirit Maiden to find. A Master to revive.

And _that_ was what left a sour taste in my mouth and not the shot of his essence into my mouth as he finished.

I let him slide down the wall and meet my gaze as his lucidity returned. And, that darkening expression was tempting - almost _too_ tempting. But I calmed myself with a far more tempting offer. I brought his hand down to feel the tension that had built up in my own pants. (That temptation was building…) “Such a _shame_ that this is a punishment, hmmm?” I whispered into his ears, and I could feel his hand twitching and trembling. Trying not to move as he desired. “Enough of this… I just cannot, in good consciousness, give you _everything_ you desire. No, my dear Sky Child…” I tightly clutched his wrist and pulled it away, revelling in his pained cry.

“You need to **earn** this…”

I chuckled into his ear before I back flipped and teleported myself elsewhere.

I would never forget that torn look of disappointment on his face as I left.


	4. Chapter 4

_You need to **earn** this…_

The words reverberated in his head. His hand still unable to erase the feeling that echoed beneath his fingertips.

Of _all_ the things he had ~~imagined~~ \- expected - the demon lord to do, **this** certainly was not one of them. No, he was too proud… too…

But, then again, just _what_ did he know about Ghirahim?

Not to mention, the longer he thought about it, the more it started to make sense. He was an egotistical maniac, of _course_ he would get off on the fact others appreciated him. In fact, this **entire** meeting seemed to emphasise that: from his little show to the suggestive words he picked.

He **wanted** Link to appreciate him in this way. To lust after him. It stroked that over-inflated ego of his. And, of course, Link had fallen right for it.

How? How had all of this amounted to what was before him now? How had he _allowed_ himself to fall to this level? To let the other _actually_ do that to him? To let that maniac _know_ his attempts were actually _successful?_

And why? By Hylia, _**why?!**_

He curled up on himself. He knew, knew that he should stand up, pick up Fi, and strengthen her.

But he just… didn’t have it in him. The fact that he had _let_ Ghirahim do that, that he _enjoyed_ it, and had even _reciprocated_ to it….

What kind of **hero** was he?

.xxx.

He did not know, nor care, how long he sat there. But, eventually Link picked himself up and wiped himself down before grabbing Fi.

Thankfully, she was quiet. He felt her thrum the sword - an attempt to get a response out of him - but he ignored it. He… He just didn’t want to talk about it.

He just wanted to get **out** of here.

.xxx.

The sky, really, was the only place Link had felt ‘safe.’

No not… safe. That wasn’t the word. It wasn’t **danger** that he was afraid of. It wasn’t even **fear** that was holding him back. No, it was the very opposite. It was an excitement so tangible that he could feel it singing in his bones, and it was denial that was holding him back. He couldn’t. He _shouldn’t._

So, yes, the skies were the best place for him. Thankfully, that was where he needed to go.

The surface was just too full of potential. One he wasn’t sure he was ready, or willing, to face.

.xxx.

Of course, he knew. He knew it was not going to be that simple to forget what happened. His skin would burn where there were markings, his muscles tender where bruises formed. And he _ached._ Oh Hylia, how he ached.

Ghirahim didn’t want him to forget, and he was doing a _damn_ good job of it.

.xxx.

The desert. That was where he went first. He couldn’t stomach returning to Eldin. No, not so soon. And the forest… oh the forest. That was where this all started. This growing _intensity_ for the demon lord. There was no way he was returning there, even with all of those mixed feelings the desert gave him. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to return to the sand sea.

~~Or face that beast again.~~

.xxx.

Unfortunately, that led to a return visit to the woods. Granted, it was not as bad as he had anticipated. Of course, it still hurt, hurt to see the room his friend was locked up in and remember her trust in him. But that was a different sort of emotion altogether. It only pushed him further. He needed to finish this. Finish this and forget about all other things, no matter how hard it may be.

And once he healed the dragon, once he received the portion of his song, Link had declined his offer of re-enacting his battles.

He needed to keep on going. While his motivation was still pushing him. (He might not return to the forest otherwise.)

.xxx.

…Well… this was just _peachy._

Water. Water in the fucking woods. What was **with** this sheer mockery? Because all he could think about was sailing. Was a ship. Was the pure **frustration** and disappointment and---

He was just imagining things, he knew he was but he swore he could feel a presence nearby. Certainly Fi would notify him… right? Besides, didn’t Ghirahim have **better** things to do than stalk him?

…..…

Forget that he thought _any_ of that.

He most definitely was going to talk to the dragon after all of this. Maybe… just maybe fighting Klokotos or Moldarach, or Scaldera would help let off some steam.

(Those were the only enemies he _considered_ battling.)

.xxx.

He picked Moldarach. It wasn’t in a scorching hot volcano. It wasn’t just before he had---

It was a distraction. Free from any unfortunate connotations. Free from innuendos and hints of what happened. What could have happened. What he wanted---

A distraction.

.xxx.

The outlet was good. It let out some steam. It let out a bit of the frustration. It calmed him down a little bit.

The marks were fading, the bruises calming.

Forget. He tried to forget. Tried to tell himself it didn't matter. That it was nothing.

But the memory was still so poignant in his mind. It wouldn't let go. **He** wouldn't let go.

And when he wasn't letting it haunt him waking, it only moved to his dreams. Dreams of heat. Of warmth. Of mockery and taunts.

Of earning his just deserts.

And every morning, every damned morning he would have to finish off what his subconscious had started. And, of course, it never was enough. It never satisfied the urge his body craved.

.xxx.

He tried to swallow the sheer surge of disappointment that he woke with in the cage.

His mind was _far_ too imaginative for him it seemed. Because he took **one** look at the bars. At the heat beating against his body. And his brain was lit with possibilities.

No. Not fantasies.

And he was alone. No sword nearby. This would be the perfect time to--

There that thought was again:

The demon lord had better things to do.

He swallowed his pride. He had to get out of here.

.xxx.

That oppressive atmosphere was there again. It couldn't be. He was just letting the other get into his head. He was just imagining things. It was just the heat. It was the similarities. It was the threatening promises. It was just the frustration.

...He just needed to get this song damn it!

.xxx.

He found himself, once more at Lanaryu.

The dragon thought this warrior was simply trying to hone his skills.

He suggested a marathon.

Link declined and decided on Scaldera. He braced the heat already, certainly he could now.

.xxx.

“You did **what?!** ”

Fighting didn't seem to fully solve his… issues so he had decided on helping out the residents of Skyloft and elsewhere. Such tasks had involved heavy usage of Fi’s tracking abilities.

Of course, she was not omnipotent. She had her limits, and thus informed her master of her current status. He could only have her track so many things at a time. However, it seemed he was not the only person adding auras into her… database.

“I have inputted Ghirahim’s presence into my archives. I had calculated it to be… pertinent if such a need was required.”

All this time… _All_ this time... he could have…

No! No! He promised himself he would not think like that!

“Wh-Why?!”

There was a moment of silence before she answered. “After the… incident in the Fire Sanctuary…” He never knew Fi could sound _awkward._ “I calculated it to be… prudent to your safety and… well-being.”

All of those pauses. Of her trying to state what happened without actually stating it. As if she was trying to not touch on a subject he didn't want to discuss… Fi had thought -- of **course** she did! What else was she to calculate? He was the hero.

He groaned and fell to his knees.

And heroes did **not** engage with the enemy…. At least, in that way. 

He wondered then, just what she figured considering that he had been…

Did she think he was trying to _untaint_ himself? To put a disconnect between those feelings and sensations to Ghirahim?

“I still do have reason that such information is required.” She continued.

Link snapped up his gaze to her. “What do you mean by that?!”

Another pause. So many awkward pauses...

“...He has been following you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a little short. Trust me. I'll make up for it in the next chapter.

It had not originally started like this.

I had returned to the desert to search for more clues about the spirit maiden. I looked at the destroyed gate of time. I knew, I knew that she would not have had it destroyed if there was no other way to return to the present. But _how?_

As I surveyed the ruins, however, was when I felt a presence nearby.

Link.

Just _what_ was he doing back here?

A confrontation - it was both far too early, and not... wise. No. I would watch. Watch and learn. Watch and see just what my little bird was up to.

.xxx.

I had recognised this area. It was not one I had ever ventured around. I do recall what it once was.

A home - and not just any home. No, this was once the home of the great dragon of the desert. He had fallen to illness however. Had fallen when this land was not covered in sand but lush greenery and water.

Before I had any time to ponder, however, the hero had taken off to the skies once more. Just _what_ was he up to...?

.xxx.

The next time I had encountered him was in the forest. When that wretched dragon had flooded the woods, drowning my minions that had taken up guard there. I had been there to survey the extent of the damage when I sensed his presence over the wall that she had erected. The damage was... severe, and while I, really, had no further reason to remain there, I did. Observing as he sought an audience with the dragon. As he withstood her harsh retorts. As he did her... bidding.

Interesting... did he have _business_ with the dragons then?

I wonder, just why exactly?

.xxx.

Naturally, Eldin was next. This time, I ensured that my minions would be ready. Ready for the dragon, and ready for _Link._ Now, I had kept a closer sense on his presence. I did want to view just how he would react after all. However, it wasn’t to Eldin he had ventured to next. No, after the forest and the night spent in the skies, he had journeyed to the desert. Said journey had not lasted long.

And he returned to Eldin.

Unfortunately for him, its dragon was not quite in the best of moods. No, an eruption was shaking the lands, clouding the skies.

Almost, _almost_ , did I pity him.

My bokoblins made short work of him - stripping him of his accessories and imprisoning him. It was ridiculous in a way, with how simple and easy it turned out to be. There were so many - _so many_ things I could do. Having Link bound and helpless...

It was tempting. _He_ was tempting. With the heat surrounding me, the memories of the Fire Sanctuary were so very poignant and tangible on my tongue. Of the temptations he represented. Of the resistance. Of the persistence.

Of how he could just not resist me.

I knew, I knew that if I went up to him, if I gave into those temptations, he would let me. Let me make him squirm beneath me. Make him sing such beautiful melodies. Make him cave despite that fury that burned beneath those blue eyes. (And that fury.... The way it twisted his features. Furrowed his brows and set his jaw. That damned determination...)

Almost, almost, did I.

But then he awoke. He awoke and _oh_ the expressions that graced his features. The way he glanced around frantically, around _slowly_ as if in denial... and finally that sheer _disappointment._

...Was he still fixated on that delusional fantasy he had about my promised punishment, I wondered?

So, I left him to his frustration. I _knew_ he would find a way out of this - one way or another. He had to, didn’t he?

And if he didn’t.... well perhaps I would fulfill that little fantasy of his.

After all, it was only I who could spur on such _emotions_ within my little bird.

.xxx.

It seemed he was very insistent upon _not_ spending another night on the surface. Perhaps it only reminded him of that one night in the woods. Reminded him of me. Reminded him of his desires. He also spent increasingly more time in the desert. Always in those caves. Of where the dragon once flourished.

He spent time elsewhere too, however. Up and down from the surface to the skies. Of the few times I had chosen to observe him, I had noticed a trend: he was using his sword’s dowsing abilities. He would obtain something before taking off to the skies once more.

...Was he becoming an _errand boy?_

This game - it was becoming _boring._ And so, I had followed him to the desert upon his next visit and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

....Just _what_ was he _doing_ in there?

I had noticed the magic of the timeshift stones surrounding the area. (And I had dared not enter it. No, the last thing I needed was for that magic to be used against me. Just _who_ knew what my form was back then. I saw what it did to those robots. I was not the one who summoned it, and it would only offer immunity to the one who summoned it.)

I glanced up to the skies. The sun was setting. So the sky child was planning on staying the night?

With that in mind, I knew I probably should have abandoned my self-indulgence. But then again...

Link thoroughly enjoyed the last night he spent on the surface, didn’t he?


End file.
